


Not Exactly Daisies

by Randominity



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quickies, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-11 13:44:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Randominity/pseuds/Randominity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because Louis' been wearing the same tank and shorts combination on his downtime for nearly a week, and it's got to smell interesting by now.</p><p>
  <i>"Are you even wearing your own pants anymore?" Zayn had asked Louis, the second day Louis'd thrown on the vest with his shorts, and Louis had kicked up his foot, pointed at his ankle.</i>
</p><p> <i>"Harry's socks, too," he'd said, then come up behind Zayn to hug him. "I'm a patchwork man, now," he'd said. "I'm, like, your raggedy man. Zap! You dreamed me up."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Exactly Daisies

"Come on, you're leaving me hanging, here," Louis says, which Zayn thinks is quite cheeky given he's got Zayn's mouth around one nipple and Zayn's hand on his cock.

"Yeah?" Zayn pulls off to say before he bites at Louis' nipple, already puckered up tight under his tongue, and Louis' breath catches. With his other hand he thumbs over the other nipple until it matches. "You act like you're doing me a favour," Zayn goes on, like Louis didn't pull him by the hand into the back lounge of the bus, saying _"I wanna get off before the show, I'm all easy access today."_

The gray vest Louis' wearing is rucked up under his armpits and Zayn can smell Louis' deodorant and the slight tang of his sweat from today, from the football they'd just played in the lot of the stadium. The vest itself is stale and a bit sharp with odour, though; three days' worth, since Louis keeps throwing it on before heading out with the football and his skateboard, having lost a piece of his luggage in the transition from Paris. Zayn hopes someone in France is happy with their bag full of menswear from Topshop. It isn't even Zayn's vest; it's Ant's, and Zayn is pretty certain Louis' nicked the shorts from Liam.

("Are you even wearing your own pants anymore?" Zayn had asked Louis, the second day Louis'd thrown on the vest with his shorts, and Louis had kicked up his foot, pointed at his ankle.

"Harry's socks, too," he'd said, then come up behind Zayn to hug him. "I'm a patchwork man, now," he'd said. "I'm, like, your raggedy man. Zap! You dreamed me up."

"Oh, don't go all Doctor Who on me," Zayn had said, leaning back into Louis' arms. "That story doesn't end well."

"In a way it does," Louis had said. "I'd never forget you, would I?")

"Yes, but," Louis says, taking in a short breath, "if you do it quickly, I can blow you, too, before the show."

Zayn lifts his head and rubs the palm of his hand even more deliberately over Louis' cock through his shorts. "It's not just up to me how quickly this goes," he points out, making Louis push up into his hand, because Louis can be a twat about that sometimes, holding off just because he can, depriving himself just to make Zayn work for it. Zayn strokes Louis until Louis goes from leaning back on his hands on the giant bed to merely propped up on his elbows, stomach caving with his breaths.

"Try me, I wanna come," Louis tells him. "Get on with it." He lifts one hand and pushes on Zayn's shoulder - _rude_ , Zayn wants to say - his dick is hard enough that Zayn can feel a bit of damp at the head of Louis' cock under the heel of his palm. Zayn sits back and tugs down the shorts that are probably Liam's along with Louis' pants until Louis' cock is free, balls and thighs still trapped in the fabric, then ducks down to mouth over it, push down Louis' foreskin with his lips. He's hit with the strong musk of Louis, of a day gone by of athletic play, the familiar scent of trapped sweat, and he pulls away, wrinkling his nose.

"You smell rank, bro," Zayn quips, and it's not-- it's not off-putting exactly, it's _Louis_ and it's masculine and it's kind of hot because Zayn's had his nose in the short, trimmed hairs at the base of Louis' cock before, knows how he smells after a show, after an orgasm or two. "How long have you been wearing these shorts? A week?" He's about to duck his head back down to suck the head of Louis' dick into his mouth, but Louis pushes him away with a noise of protest.

"Fuck you, I showered!" Louis frowns down at him. "I showered _today_! I shower _every_ day!"

"You shower with those shorts on, though?" Zayn raises his eyebrows at Louis pointedly. "It's like, you shower, and then you put these same shorts back on and play footie again, and your balls sweat in them, again."

"And then I have a _shower_ ," Louis says stubbornly.

"I'm still gonna blow you, bebz," Zayn tells him gently, but Louis' twisting his hips away a bit now, sullen.

"I could have a shower first," he says, "you big baby, then neither of us will get off."

"It's just the shorts," Zayn assures him, then tugs them down the rest of the way to Louis' knees and shifts aside so that Louis can kick them off. "I like your rank smell, Louis," Zayn says, wrapping his hand around the base of Louis' cock before Louis can turn away again. He licks round the tip to catch the pre-come before sinking down over it, and Louis was right; he _is_ cleaner, salty-tasting and smelling of fresh sweat, with just a hint of arousal, of the lingering scent of the pre-come that had seeped through his pants.

"All right, I'll throw them in with," Louis says begrudgingly, with a stuttered breath, "Harry's laundry later," and puts his hand on top of Zayn's head, scrunching at Zayn's loosely-styled fauxhawk but not pulling or tugging. Louis falls silent after that, tilts his head back, and Zayn looks up to watch his Adam's apple bob, the long line of his neck as he rocks shallow thrusts into Zayn's mouth. Zayn sucks him fast, letting his spit wet the way while he strokes at the base of Louis' cock, and Louis works for it, trying to meet Zayn's rhythm, breathing hard. It isn't long, maybe a minute or two more, until Louis mutters, "yes-- yeah, gonna," and comes into the back of Zayn's mouth with a moan.

Zayn laps at Louis' dick a bit longer, letting Louis pet the top of his head as he shivers through an aftershock and then pushes at Zayn's forehead to get him to let up, and then Louis pulls his vest off the rest of the way and slithers down off the bed, naked but for his beanie, onto his knees. "Lemme do you," Louis says, turning over and licking his lips. "Up you go," he urges, and tugs at Zayn's flies even as he tries to help Zayn up to his feet to sprawl back on the bed.

"I'm close," Zayn warns Louis as Louis gives him a few quick strokes in his fist, spreading pre-come over the head of his cock, and Louis quirks a knowing eyebrow from beneath his fringe and lowers his head to lick at Zayn's balls, taking one gently into his mouth and still stroking Zayn's cock dry. "Lou," he says warningly, breath catching, and he entangles his fingers in Louis' beanie, flexing his fingers, feeling it slip over the hair at the crown of Louis' head. Louis releases his ball from his mouth and licks around his fingers up the length of Zayn's dick, then stops teasing entirely, takes a sharp breath in through his nose and sucks Zayn down nearly all the way. He goes down on Zayn until Zayn can feel himself nudge against the back of Louis' throat, feel the flutter of Louis' muscles accommodating him.

The breath whooshes out of him and it's times like this he has to fight not to buck up into Louis' mouth, but Louis has one arm planted firmly across Zayn's hips in anticipation. Louis hollows his cheeks and sucks hard, the flat of his tongue pressing up against the underside of Zayn's dick, and the tight, wet, unrelenting suction is enough to coast Zayn the rest of the way, making him come with a stifled cry, hips shuddering against Louis' arm.

Louis pulls back as Zayn finishes, lips closed around the tip of his cock to swallow, then he pulls off like a kiss and raises his eyebrows. "You like my rank smell," he says in a flat voice.

"Louis," Zayn rolls his eyes, exasperated, and lets his head fall back on the bed. "What I meant was--" he sighs.

"Come shower with me after the show," Louis says.

Zayn struggles to sit back up, aware his dick is still out and very aware that Louis is still naked and has suggested they be naked together again later. "Yeah?" he says. "Meet you at your hotel room?"

Louis nods. "And bring your suitcase. I'll need to wear your sweats tomorrow."

"They're Liam's sweats, actually," Zayn points out, tucking himself back in and zipping back up so he's somewhat presentable.

"Yeah, well," Louis shrugs, and reaches behind himself for the shorts again to pull them back on before they exit the lounge.


End file.
